Boy the week sure flew by. Seemed like it was just yesterday that I posted. But it wasn't was it? So I shall shut up now and let you enjoy this one. Thanks to those who review.

Everyone's eyes were glued to JJ's phone as it skittered across the table. She scooped it up and glanced at the screen.

"It's a unknown number," she said looking at Hotch.

"It could be Emily. Answer it."

JJ put the phone to her ear. "Jareau."

"JJ."

"Emily. Oh, thank god. You scared me to death when you took off like that." She gently scolded her friend.

"I'm sorry. Truly I am. I had to come and help. I couldn't stand by and do nothing."

"I understand."

"Thanks. Is Hotch around?" Emily asked.

"Umm…yeah," JJ hesitated, slightly thrown off by the abrupt change of subject. "He's right here. Let me put you on speakerphone."

Four pairs of eyes followed her as JJ pressed the button and set the phone on the table.

"I'm here." Hotch answered.

"This is all my fault." Emily's voice came over the speaker.

"No it isn't."

"Yes, it is. My past has pulled Jack into this mess." The team could hear the desolation in her voice and their hearts ached for her.

"The only person at fault is Doyle," Hotch said firmly. "He's the one who took Jack."

"Because I took Declan."

"That doesn't matter. He made the decision and acted on it. You didn't make it for him."

They heard Emily letting out a sigh of exasperation. "We could go around and around on this for hours but we don't the have time for this. I need your help, Hotch."

"Come in and I'll help you in any way I can." He watched everyone lean in, hoping that she would say yes.

"You know I can't do that."

Hotch let out a soft chuckle. "I had to try."

Emily snorted. "I know."

"What do you need?" he asked, knowing full well what she was after.

"I need to see the file Morgan has on Doyle."

"You've got it."

"Thanks, Hotch. I'll contact you with where you can send it."

"Emily?"

"Yeah?"

"Doyle gave us three days to turn over Declan. We now have less than sixty hours left."

"Baiser enfer!" Emily swore and hung up.

"What did that mean?" Reid asked.

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "You probably don't want to know."

"Baiser enfer!" Emily swore and angrily snapped the phone closed. "Damn it!" she swore again and pushed the baseball hat back on her head to rub her forehead in vexation.

Two and a half days, she thought in annoyance as Arlington House loomed over her shoulder from its perch on the hill. I have two and half days and probably not a minute longer knowing Doyle. Talk about pressure.

"Son of a bitch," Emily muttered under her breath and headed for the entrance, the white marble headstones bearing silence witness to her anger and frustration while in the distance the echo of Taps bid her a sad farewell.

"Penelope?" Morgan asked. "Would you be able to pinpoint the location of the computer Emily uses to receive the file?"

"Of course," she said cheerfully. "Down to what table and which room."

"Good. When you get the coordinates send them to me."

"Morgan, what are you planning?" Hotch asked.

"What do you think?" He glared at his boss. "I'm going to go get Emily and bring her home."

Rossi stood up and blocked the door. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said.

"What?" Morgan demanded. "Damn it, Rossi, she's my partner. I have to watch her back."

"I know that but right now Emily is our ace in the hole. Doyle doesn't know she's alive and we need to keep it that way. As long as we keep Doyle focused on us, Emily should be able to slip pass his defenses and rescue Jack."

Morgan crossed his arms in defiance. "I don't care. Emily died, shit, almost died because I didn't get there in time to protect her. I'm not going to let that happen again."

Rossi studied the younger man and watched the guilt flash across his face. Morgan didn't want to fail her again. He decided to change tack.

"Ok," he said placidly. "So you go and get her. What are you going to do? Handcuff Emily to her desk?"

"She probably knows how to pick the lock," Reid said to no one in particular. "Ow!" He reached down and rubbed his knee, glaring at Garcia who had just kicked him under the table.

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe," Morgan said through clenched teeth.

Rossi stepped closer. "Even if it costs you your friendship? You do this and Emily will resent you for the rest of her life. Whatever trust you have left between you two will be hopelessly shattered beyond repair. The only thing you will accomplish is reinforcing her long held belief that the only person she can trust is herself. Emily will run and we all will have lost her for good this time. No second chances. Do you want that?" Rossi gazed at him.

Morgan stared at a spot on the wall over the older man's shoulder. He sighed deeply. "No."

"Good." Rossi gave him a reassuring smile. "She knows what she is doing. The CIA has trained her well. Emily is going into this with her eyes wide open and she knows that she is not alone, that we have her back."

"I know," Morgan muttered. "It's just so hard to do nothing."

"It's hard for all of us. Trust her."

Emily set up camp at a table in a secluded corner of the public library. The last couple of hours had been hectic as she raced all over Arlington. First she had to retrieve the package that contained her laptop from the local Fed-Ex store that she had it shipped to. Next she had annoyed another taxi driver by having him drive around until she had spotted a small Internet Café. Inside, speaking in broken French and waving around her passport, she had secured a computer. Once she had taken her seat before it, she had created a new email address and then texted it to JJ's phone. Several minutes later the file arrived in her mailbox, which she had in turn forwarded it to her laptop. Emily then had retreated to the library.

Plugging in the laptop, she flipped it open and pulled up the email and its attachment. Emily quietly whistled at the size of the file. Morgan with Penelope's help had amassed quite a dossier on Doyle. It contained everything from his arm dealing contracts to his known associates from his I.R.A. days. Surprisingly listed under his aliases was Chuck Murray, which he had borrowed from his dog. She had thought that she was the only person who had known it. Guess she wasn't if Garcia had been able to dig it up. Somewhere hidden in this mass of information was a hint that would lead her to Doyle. Emily dug in.

After three hours of reading, sorting, shifting and analyzing, all that Emily had to show for her efforts was an aching back and eyestrain from squinting at the screen. Running a hand over her weary eyes she idly wondered how Penelope could do it for hours on end, day after day, week after week. Pushing the laptop to one side, Emily rested her head on her crossed arms. Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift.

When JJ's phone buzzed several hours later, Garcia looked over at Morgan. "Do you still want me to run the trace?"

Morgan shook his head. "Send her the file."

"Okey dokey." She typed in the email address Emily had given JJ and sent the file on its way. "Hope it is more useful to Emily than it was for us."

"We can only hope so," Hotch said. "Now where were we?"

In the hours between Emily's first and second phone calls, Morgan had brought the rest of the team up to speed on the search for Declan. Currently they were waiting for Anderson to resurface with the evidence from the Ben Correlli case.

"Where the heck can he be?" Penelope fumed, drumming her muli-colored nails on the tabletop. "If he thought the last chewing out was bad he is in for a very nasty surprise." Everyone in the room suddenly felt bad for the man.

The condemned agent rushed into the conference room. "Sorry I took so long. It was misfiled but I finally found it." He handed the large manila envelope to Garcia.

"Thanks." She mad a shooing motion with her hand. "You may go now."

"Call if you need anything else, Miss Garcia," Anderson said and departed as quickly as he had entered.

Garcia upended the envelope, spilling its contents all over the conference table.

"There must be close to two hundred fake Ids here," Reid observed as he divided the pile among his teammates.

She flipped over the envelope. "One hundred ninety-two to be precise."

"And it looks like over half of them are for children," JJ commented as she glanced through hers.

"What physical features are we looking for?" Hotch asked.

"Blonde hair and blue eyes."

"Emily could have changed his hair color," Rossi pointed out.

"True." She held up a picture and tapped it with one finger. "But you can't hide those eyes of his. They're sky blue."

Silence descended as they each shifted through their individual piles. "I think I found him." Morgan pulled out an Id and handed it to Penelope who compared the two pictures.

"You got him," she said pleased. "It says his name is Matthew Thatcher."

"Then his mother should have the same last name," Rossi said and everyone returned to his or her search with renewed energy.

A few minutes later Reid exclaimed. "Got her. Louise Thatcher." He passed it to Garcia.

Penelope pulled over her laptop. "Now all I have to do is enter this information and I will have their exact location in two shakes of a cute and cuddly lamb's tail." Her fingers flew over the keyboard. "Lets see. Looks like Emily had settled them on a quiet cul-de-sac in Reston, Virginia."

"That's where Emily was living when she first returned to D.C.," Morgan observed.

"Hmmm…this is interesting."

"What is it?" he asked.

"A man by the name of Tom Kohler also resides at the same address."

"Who's he?" Hotch inquired with a slight frown.

"I let you know in a sec." Garcia looked up, eyes wide in surprise. "He's one of us. A Fed."

JJ looked around the table. "He must be an old friend of Emily's. She never mentioned him."

"There's a lot we don't know about her," Reid said quietly.

Hotch glanced at him in concern but said nothing knowing Reid was still reeling from Emily's sudden resurrection. "Where is Agent Kohler now?" he asked instead.

"He's currently on assignment."

"Get me his number," Hotch said, standing up.

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do?"

"Call him and get him back here to protect Declan. We can't go to where Declan is because Doyle will then know that we found him." Hotch headed for his office.

"Well that explains that," Garcia absently commented, eyes once again glued to her monitor.

The rest of the team turned to her. "Explain what?" Morgan asked her.

"Why Declan is staying at a boarding school. Seems that place has great security so this Tom fellow knows he safe when he is gone." Garcia typed away. "Awww…seems our blue-eyed boy is a smart one."

"How smart?" Reid asked his curiosity piqued.

Garcia smiled. "Not as smart as our boy genius here but more well rounded. He has brains and is an athlete to boot. Looks like he's living the life Emily wanted, no wants him to have."

"Morning, Luv," the voice whispered in Emily's ear. She felt her hair being brushed off her neck to be replaced by a gentle kiss.

She smiled at the caress. Turning she reached up, grabbed Ian by the front of his shirt and gently reeled him in to kiss him lightly on the lips.

"Morning," she said sweetly, gazing into his blue eyes and kissing him again only this time longer.

Ian broke off the kiss with a laugh. He ran his fingers lightly along her shoulder before sitting down at the table and pouring a glass of orange juice. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, gazing fondly at her over the top of his glass.

"So so." She gave him a sideward glance as she curled one corner of her mouth into a smile. "Someone kept waking me up all night," she said coyly.

Ian cocked his head to one side, eyes dancing in amusement. "Lauren, I told you it was a bad idea to let the dog sleep with us."

Emily threw her head back in laughter. "He was a perfect gentleman. It was the other occupant in the bed I had trouble with."

"I'll be more gentlemanly next time," he teased.

She laughed again, deep and throaty. "You do that. Beautiful day isn't it?" she asked letting her eyes wander over the manicured grounds from their place on the terrace. In the distance she could see Declan playing with the before mentioned dog. The boy, sensing that he was being watched, turned and waved. Emily smiled and waved back.

"Everything is beautiful today," he said, watching her watching his son.

She turned her dazzling smile on him and he felt himself falling further in love with her.

Emily picked up a piece of bacon to nibble on. "It's sweet that you let Louise's son play anywhere he wants. Some employers aren't so lenient with the help."

Ian turned to watch Declan making his way to them having been abandoned by the dog who was now off chasing a rabbit. "His laughter fills the villa with his joy. Nothing makes a home more welcoming than the sound of a child's happiness."

Declan scrambled up the steps and came to a sliding stop. Suddenly shy, he looked down, clasped his hands behind his back and toed one of the tiles. "Miss 'Auren? Would you push me on the swing?"

Emily looked at Ian, one eyebrow raised in question. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all. I have some business I need to tend to."

"I would love to," she said grinning at the boy who looked up and returned her grin with an even bigger one.

"C'mon, Miss 'Auren." Declan grabbed her by the hand and Emily let him tug her to her feet. "This way," he said and she allowed herself to be led to a century old oak tree where a wooden swing swayed gently in the morning breeze.

"Up you go." Emily picked up the little boy and deposited him on the swing. She made sure they were facing the terrace so she could keep an eye on the meeting.

"Ready?" The boy nodded, furiously pumping his legs to get the swing moving.

As she pushed, Emily watched Louise come out to clear the remains of breakfast from the table. Doyle had a few words with her. She nodded and went back inside. A few minutes later a tall, broad man with salt and pepper hair stepped onto the terrace. Doyle rose smiling and the men embraced, slapping each other on the back.

Emily frowned, not recognizing the man. They appear to be old friends, she mused.

"Higher!" Declan shouted out in glee.

"Huh? Oh, sure." Emily pushed harder and Declan squealed in delight. She turned her attention back to the meeting.

Doyle gestured to the empty chair. As both men sat Louise reappeared with a carafe of coffee. Doyle thanked her and then offered the man a cup. He refused. Meanwhile Louise moved up to the railing and looked out over the yard, shading her eyes with a hand.

Emily stopped pushing the swing. "Declan, I think your mother is looking for you."

"Rats," the little boy said and jumped nimbly off when the swing slowed. "Thanks, Miss 'Auren."

"I had fun." Emily smiled and ruffled his hair fondly. "Now scoot." Declan waved then ran off to his mother.

Emily settled onto the swing and watched the boy launch himself into Louise's arms. Hugging him tightly she went back in. Laughter pulled her attention back to terrace. Both men now were leaning back in their chairs, relaxed and smoking. They must be exchanging stories, she concluded, using one foot to push herself back and forth. A few minutes later both men stood and shook hands. The stranger headed for the door while Doyle made his way to her side.

"That was quick," she observed after Ian kissed her.

"Just a visit from an old friend." He moved behind her and gave her a gentle push. Emily wanted to know his name but she didn't want to push it and make him suspicious.

Casually she said, "Talking about old times? No, don't tell me. Let's see. Redhead lasses, pub hopping and way too many pints of ale?"

Ian chuckled. "Dermot O'Bannion could never hold his liquor or resist his fondness for redheads." Aha, Emily silently cheered. A name. "Which clashes with what he wants to do."

"Which is?"

Ian gave her his patented half smile. "He's planning on retiring and opening his own pub."

"Really. Where?"

"This is the funny part. He wants to move to America and open it in Washington D.C.. Right smack in the middle of all those feds."

Emily cocked an eyebrow. "That's bold."

Ian shrugged. "It is but that is what he wants to do. He even has a name picked out."

"What is it?"

"He's going to call it…"

Emily's head snapped up from the library table. "The Unicorn," she whispered.

Ah ha. Could it be possible that Emily has an inkling to where Doyle is hiding? Check in next week and find out.